Honourable
by c.j.burke1817
Summary: Fenrir was transformed, and now stuck between her fear of destiny and the desire to change, she must move along this journey that the universe decided for her. With the help of others, her fate might just change for the better, or the worst.
1. PROLOGUE (12-21 09:29:03)

**P R O L O G U E**

 _"A monster is only a monster if you see it as one."_

_

A place could be beautiful at one glance, but with every good thing, there is a darkness that accompanies it. It's a natural balance, a universal scale that cradles the light and shadow.

There will always be two halves that make a whole, and with that comes the smaller pieces which molds each of them to fit the perfect shape. A butterfly, a delicate specimen that has both wings equal to each other can be thrown into obscurity if one is damaged. It resembles the tipping of a scale, as more weight is added to the other basin. The mishap could change everything, and no one could do anything about it.

It's events like here on this day, that can forever shift a path one could be treading on.

Golden rays from the sun broke through the few little clouds that drifted in the open blue, reaching down with otherworldly radiance to caress the city and people within it. The hands of light were felt differently by each individual, but for most the greeting was far too warm. Each noise that was made opened the area to a new kind of peaceful joy; a laugh, the whisper of wind against leaves, hooves of horses clicking among the cobblestone and thumps of the children who ran freely.

People bustled amidst each other, visiting and minding their own. Families held hands, young ones swinging their arms as they laughed into the humid air. The sight of Asgard and the souls that inhabited the kingdom was a special sort of beauty, and that in itself was worth more than gold or diamond shards.

While the sun bared down on the people, hard working men lugged around their cargo and one by one wiped beads of sweat from their faces. There was no time for some to spend leisurely, but once again, the social scale was balanced. Another being, however, looked upon the scene in admiration.

The creature sat in a shady corner, her thick black coat soaking in the dreaded heat as her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth. Her chest was heavy and her eyes were clouded with exhaustion, leaving Fenrir to rest next to a building she hadn't ever paid much attention to. Slipping down to lie on her belly, the gravel felt cool against her stomach. Watching on with lazily perked ears, her gaze traveled over the faces that hadn't noticed her presence.

She barely ever left the palace, mostly due to the fear of how the people would react to a wolf lurking amongst them on the crowded streets. The distance between her and the others at least made her a little content, although she wished to walk beside them. Fenrir wondered what it would be like to look mundane, with hands and feet, fingers and toes, no tail and walking upright.

Stretching her long limbs before opening her jaws to yawn, the wolf flicked her tail against the ground. Having such a dark coat in this weather made her think about asking her father, or anyone for the matter, to clip it. Like everyone else in the palace, she was groomed daily, but the cutting of her fur would have disappointed her father. Maybe it wouldn't be best to ask him, she thought, crossing her large paws as she settled back down and lowered her head to rest on them.

The noise from the people slowly became a gentle hum, lulling her tired eyes to close. The atmosphere surrounded her with a sudden cool breeze that swept against the ground, and she had nearly fallen to sleep until a sharp gasp jolted her awake. It was an unusual sound, one she had only heard once or twice before. An intake of air so sudden it spoke louder than any words imaginable. A gasp like that either meant fear or surprise, there were no other ways to explain it.

Eyes pulled wide open and confused, she shook her large head to clear away the blurriness. Blinking while her vision settled, Fenrir was taken back by what stood before her. Sitting up, the wolf's ears pushed back against her skull as she tucked her tail between her legs. It was rare that a pair of strangers would approach her, in fact it just never happened.

Fenrir pushed herself closer to the stone wall, almost as if she were to mold with the rock and wood and became one with the structure. The children looked about nine or ten, the two of them having obvious differences.

To the right, the oldest boy had long, dark red hair that curled tightly in most places but loosened in others. His skin was decorated by freckles and his eyes were a dark chocolate brown. He was a bit taller than the other who accompanied him, and was fuller in the face. A couple scars littered his forehead and chin, however none looked to be too serious. His brows were raised, and an emotion she couldn't read lingered upon his face.

Beside him stood a blond boy with hazel eyes, his skin darker than the other's but not by much. He had a scar above his right brow and a small cut on the corner of his lower lip. Their clothes were dirty, and she had an understanding that children had a tendency to get into things, but something was off about the two. They didn't look scared of her, which was a surprise. Nor did they have lingering parents to pull them away from her.

"Pretty..." the red haired boy stepped forward, reaching his hand out to the black wolf. She was bewildered by the action, and guessed he thought she was just a regular dog. Fenrir sat still, watching his hand as it drew closer to her pelt. It took more than enough energy to stay still and not shake. She lived with gods, how could a child frighten the daughter of Loki? Perhaps, it was the fact she hadn't been around children, or that the weary eyes of other residents of the palace made her self conscious. Point being, she didn't know what to do.

His fingers combed through the fur on her shoulder, and oddly enough, she enjoyed it. Licking her coal colored lips, she faked a yawn to show her teeth, thinking the display would bring a little more caution to the boys. It didn't. The blond moved in to poke at her ear, which flickered at his touch. How are they so... calm? I am a complete danger to them!Fenrir leaned her head away from the blond's hand, a sharp exhale of breath leaving her nostrils. Sitting up further, Fenrir had to look down slightly to meet their gaze. It was to no avail, they stayed put where they were. Either they were naive, or stupidly brave.

"Did your mothers not teach you about personal space, or about strangers?" Fenrir rose a brow, tilting her head slightly. There we go, she chuckled at their shocked expressions. "Never seen a wolf that could speak?"

Both of the boys shook their heads quickly, taking back their hands as if being scolded. The black canine stood, reaching her full height. Their eyes rose until their heads had to be tilted, their jaws dropping in awe. She licked her lips again, this time leaning in to inspect their faces. Scrunching her nose, she moved back.

"Your breath smells of onions," to what she said, their faces turned scarlet.

"We..." the red haired boy started, taking hold of his tunic and twisting it in his hands," we haven't anything else..." for a moment, the boy looked as if he would cry. Worry began to seep into Fenrir's blue-green gaze. She stepped forward, pressing her nose to his forehead.

A hum danced in her throat, and she barely flinched when his hands touched the fur of her neck. "Do not fret," the wolf's voice was gentle," I understand."

Pulling away, the boy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "My name is Ingmar and he is Kari," the freckled one sniffed harshly, as if the poor lad was congested. Fenrir flinched at the tough sound, but gave him a toothy, wolf grin.

"I am Fenrir."


	2. CHAPTER ONE

**C H A P T E R · O N E**

 _"Where there is a will, there is a way."_

「 FENRIR 」

Above, the sky was dark, and stars littered the vast plain of the space that loomed over the land. Far off on each side, the fastness of the river Amsvartnir could be heard crashing against the rocks and lapping at the banks and depressions in the earth. The river carved divots in the grey stones, carrying fish of vibrant colors and minerals to no destination but where they land. Trees stood tall, their broad trunks filled with sap only dwarves could tap and consume. All around the land piece, beyond Amsvartnir, land stretched as far as the eye could see. Mountains and hills, forests of dark green and pine blue. There were fields of flowers and grasses, room to run and places to hunt, but there was only solitude in the center of the alluring landscape.

The island of Lyngvi, a lonely place. The animals and plants looked to be the only sign of life, or so that was what some of who traveled the grounds believed. There was a creature. A beast whose stare could leave you frozen in a petrified fear. An animal of such darkness, one would be swallowed up in a void. A being even the mightiest of gods feared. An immortal, burdened with the quiet voices of nothing and forced into submission to the nature encased around it.

The creature laid against a large stone, a black bundle against the darkened blue-grey. The full moon above casted its glare over the open trees where the animal rested, the light dancing amongst the blackened fur, turning it into purples, blues and indigo. Its eyes were closed, although it was not asleep.

The wolf's heavy chest rose and fell, each deep intake of air expelling, causing the jagged motions of the grass blades. Beneath it, greenery had been patted down, and after so many years, the bedding was hard. Gently, the black wolf shifted, moving her legs under her as some effort to make it comfortable. However, the shackles made it hard. Curling her tail as close as possible, she nestled herself back against the ruined rock. The chill in the air was all too familiar, it had been so long she had forgotten to count the days. It felt like years, and it had been, the time long, lonely and agonizing.

Her ears fluttered at any sound, whether it be night birds or other animals of the dark that scurried over the forest floor. But, aside from that, it was quiet. Far too quiet.

In the beginning, she used to fill the sky with howls and cries, prayers and promises, and while time drifted by, she had given up. She was to be there, alone, for the rest of her life until fates hand would come to guide her to the end.

The wolf's stomach growled, causing her to jump slightly at the sudden eruption. It had been a long while since she had eaten, and being immortal just made her hunger worsen. Her mouth was dry, and no amount of licking would bring moisture back to her lips. Breathing in deeply, the wolf sighed.

Turning her body once more, she grimaced at the chains as they rubbed against the raw flesh of her ankles. Carefully, she dragged her tongue over the new open wounds, a soft whine leaving her. It stung, far worse than any bee that had made an enemy of her. It burned, possibly more than the hottest of flames.

Why did they do this? Why make her stay here in chains?

All that was left to her were the remaining bones of the kill her father had brought some time she had long lost track of, and the memories that were bittersweet, along with an everlasting fury that bubbled in the pit of her belly. She hungered to see the faces of those who had trapped her, desiring the taste of their blood as her teeth sank into their flesh. She would in time, but patience had overstayed its welcome. The she-wolf growled to herself, forcing her broad frame up to stretch her limbs the best she could. Again, the chains rubbed the bloodied gashes.

"Damn them," she mumbled, dark blue-green eyes glancing about the area. A breeze picked up, brushing through the thick strands of her coat.

The air carried an array of scents, the estranged and known odors brought what little wetness she had left to water her mouth. Among the various smells of plants and other animals, there was one she barely recognized after so much time had gone by. Footsteps approached, twigs breaking and leaves rustling with the movements.

Immediately, the canine stood tall, her head high with her ears pushed forward. Her hackles rose as her lips lifted, revealing sharp teeth at the ready.

Some of the faces, she didn't recognize. They all wore decorative helmets, weapons at their sides or strapped to their back. Of course, they were Odin's men. In front of them was a face she recalled well.

"Thor," her voice cracked through the air, a thunderous growl following. The god cleared his throat, lowering his prized weapon from his shoulder. She watched him closely, her gaze piercing. One by one, the men that followed him moved into a single line on either side of the blond, standing at attention.

"Fenrir," her uncle breathed, his gaze rising to meet hers. She was far larger since he last saw her, and from his expression, she could read his bewilderment. Fenrir's tail swayed slowly behind her, her paws shifting to fix her stance. "My father sent me," Thor started, glancing to the soldiers beside him," and he insisted upon my company."

The wolf snorted, a sharp bark leaving her as her jaws snapped. "Good, the more to quench my hunger," the black wolf licked her lips, her eyes moving over each of the other souls. To her words, hands moved to their swords. "What is it your father wants with me? I will have a guess― he sent you to finish off his beastly kin?" Thor shook his head, waving to the battle ready swordsmen. Their twigs of metal would be no match for the wolf anyhow. Stepping forward, Thor crossed his arms over his chest, Mjolnir still in hand.

"Nay, he simply wishes that I bring you," Thor dug his heel into the dirt, seemingly bored. Fenrir released a deep intake of air, disbelief written on her face. "There seems to be a way to-"

"No," the she-wolf intervened sharply, shaking her large head," there is no way to avoid it. Ragnarok is the sealed fate, prophecies can never be changed." For a moment, Fenrir looked to her previous thought. It was a hoax, it had to be. If Odin wanted to see her, he would have came himself. The all-father would have addressed her by his lonesome, as he never seemed afraid of his impending doom. Slowly, and with an extended breath, she sat. Gleipnir rubbed the open wounds, and for the moment she ignored the pain.

Her uncle nodded his head, moving a hand to brush his golden tresses from his eyes. "But, there is a chance. Odin—and the rest of our kin—believe there to be possibilities." The thunder god moved closer, only stopping when Fenrir stood again. She watched as his grip tightened around the hilt of Mjolnir, the lines in his face hardening. Fenrir growled with his approaching steps, ears falling back flat against her skull. Her hackles stayed stiff, her teeth barely shown. "Personally," Thor sighed, making another stride," I believe there is always a way to make change."

Fenrir snapped, lunging forward. "Fool!" the wolf barked, the chains yanking her back as her body pulled forward. A cry left her lips, the warmth of blood drifting through the follicles of her fur and through her toes. Claws digging into the grasses and dirt below, she inched forward again. "Fate is a monster in itself," Fenrir said through clenched teeth," Even a God cannot bypass it. It haunts us all. My fate is to remain here until Ragnarok, and this is where I will stay."

"I can feel your misery," Thor raised a hand, motioning to the chains," my eyes also witness it." moving the hilt of Mjolnir beneath his arm, the blue eyed god have another step. "This is your chance! If you do not see it, then maybe you do wish to remain here and rot. I can smell the spoiling of the scars, Fenrir, and as you may hold a healing ability, the marks will be there forever," he paused, and with one quick movement, his beloved hammer was in the grass," _Come_. _Come home_."

Awareness rose within her chest. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't a trick. The almighty Thor Odinson wouldn't discard his weapon willingly, especially with such a hungry beast standing before him. It was true, her hunger. She starved each day, but her body had only lost as it gained weight. Her muscles were still well refined, but if she was the small pup she once was, her hide would have been glued to her bones, closely tucked in edges and around curves. There was a piece of her that desired to gobble up the men before her, but the rest knew that if she did, she would never come back from it.

She watched the armed males, hands still ready to draw their weapons. They were the perfect toys, doing as they were told to do, never talking back, just taking orders. They knew Thor would have been fine on his own, and yet they came here, knowing what they would see. The wolf was baffled, an air of distrust pooling around her. If it was peace they seeked, then no weapons were needed.

"Is my father there?" Fenrir cut through the silence gently, her voice hushed at the mention of Loki. She hadn't seen her father in years, not since he brought her the last taste of meat some century ago. The image of him had even faded in her mind, the sound of his voice no longer drummed in her ears, and her chest was heavy with longing. He was the one she called for during the storms and dark, cloudy nights where the moon was no longer shown to comfort her. She was a pup, and over time she had grown used to the silence and her own voice. She hated it, she hated _them_ , _him_. Fenrir licked her lips, another growl rumbling in her belly.

Thor nodded, kneeling down to pick his hammer back up. "Yes, he has returned from his own imprisonment." The blond god motioned to her chains," Have you decided to come?"

For a moment, she thought to herself,' Will I finally know true freedom?' Fenrir flicked her left ear, expelling a long breath. "Yes," she said, although she sounded quite unsure. There were many what if'sthat clung to the mist of her thoughts, as nothing was for sure to be true. Odin had fooled her once, but not again. "I will see what Odin has to offer." Thor smiled, but Fenrir couldn't see if it held any secrets. She didn't trust any of them, none with the swords and armor, but if anyone had a chance against her it was Thor, the thunder god. She watched as his hand looped with the strap of his war hammer, gently swinging it to whatever he was thinking.

Fenrir allowed him to move closer, careful to keep a distance between them as he made his way around her to the stone she had been stuck with. His hand traveled over the runes, down to each peg the chains were latched to. From his touch, the shackles detached from the stone. The weight of the metal slumped, falling to the ground with a thick thud. _Finally_ , Fenrir thought, _I can move_. She stretched, claws digging into the dirt as she did. The soreness of her muscles waned, a few loud pops echoing from her back and neck.

Before the wolf knew it, eight of the armed men approached, two by two leaning down to take hold of each chain. It took two to carry one as they were most definitely heavy, having had been crafted to withstand her strength. The blond fertility god hummed, capturing her attention once more. "Asgard has changed much while you were here," he mused, as if to make different conversation with her.

"I care not for speaking more than I have to," the wolf said, annoyance clear in her expression. Her uncle shrugged, waving his hand to the men that followed. It was a signal for them to leave. Raising his hammer to the sky, Thor called a name she hadn't heard in ages. With it came a bright beam of light, their bodies encased in it as they were lifted. The wolf kept her eyes closed as if to fight off the ill feeling in her belly, a slight touch of regret simmering with it.


End file.
